as to say "the gift," and then Chitterlow thanked him and said he was better than Archer any day. So he eyed Chitterlow with a baleful eye until it dawned upon him that a most extraordinary thing was taking place, Chitterlow kept mentioning someone named Kipps. This presently began to perplex Kipps very greatly. Dimly but decidedly he perceived this was wrong.
"Look 'ere," he said suddenly, "what Kipps?"
"This chap Kipps I'm telling you about."
"What chap Kipps you're telling which about?"
"I told you."
Kipps struggled with a difficulty in silence for a space. Then he reiterated firmly, "What chap Kipps?"
"This chap in my play—man who kisses the girl."
"Never kissed a girl," said Kipps; "leastwise" and subsided for a space. He could not remember whether he had kissed Ann or not—he knew he had meant to. Then suddenly in a tone of great sadness and addressing the hearth he said, "My name's Kipps."
"Eh?" said Chitterlow.
"Kipps," said Kipps, smiling a little cynically.
"What about him?"
"He's me." He tapped his breastbone with his middle finger to indicate his essential self.
He leant forward very gravely towards Chitterlow. "Look 'ere, Chit'low," he said, "you haven't no business putting my name into play. You mustn't
